


Cravings

by sleep



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep/pseuds/sleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About Drift and his past addictions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cravings

Drift had been 'clean' for a very long time. It was one of the only irrefutably _good_ things that becoming a Decepticon ever did for him. And when he stopped being a Decepticon, he remained clean. It was tough at first – maybe even tougher without the Decepticons – but with time, it became easier. Easier, easier, but never fully easy  
  
The physical and mental hold slowly let go – almost entirely – but when the regrets and realization of all the things he had done started piling up on him, Drift found himself missing the oblivion – the absolution – of his trips. Of not knowing who or where he was, not having his past dragging him down. And still, he somehow persisted.   
  
It was the easiest when he had people around him. People to keep his mind busy. People who would be disappointed – be _sad_ – if he fell back into his old habits. People who cared. Beings alone was so much worse; trapped with his mind, with his past, having to hold back from his easy escape of it all.  
  
It was the hardest when he had people around him. People who openly hated him, distrusted him, made him feel even more isolated than when he were alone. People who were just waiting for another reason to sneer at him. Being alone was so much better; some calm, some quiet, in complete control of himself and his surroundings.   
  
And all of a sudden, he had been clean for several millennia. The days where he only lived for his next hit were a distant memory, a thing of the faraway past. And in the dark moments, when he still felt the cravings tug at him, that aching need that never completely left him calling after him, he knew he would get over it. He knew that the moment would pass, and he would still be clean. But like the countless lives he had ended, haunting his conscience, he knew the feeling would never quite go away. Still he smiled. He lived. And the past remained in the past, his past, which he always carried with him.  


End file.
